


Allegiance

by Ellstra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Pre-Canon, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 18:37:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10471461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellstra/pseuds/Ellstra
Summary: Albus gets arrested for alleged connections with Gellert Grindelwald. Contemplating his life in a cell in Azkaban, he gets an unexpected visitor. When he escapes, the whole wizarding world learns what it looks like when he and Gellert are truly a team.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherishedsaulie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherishedsaulie/gifts).



> For the prompt provided by [hadesharia](https://hadesharia.tumblr.com/). For the amazing

Albus Dumbledore was just about to start correcting a pile of homework when he was summoned to the headmaster’s office. He shot a remorseful glance at his steaming cup of tea, knowing that by the time he’d get back, it would be cold. He got up and acquired his wand just in case he'd need it. He knew there were people who put so much trust into theirs that they took them even to the bathroom, but that seemed just excessive. But being cautious couldn't have been counted as surplus. 

Albus didn't put much thought into what he was expected for. Headmaster Dippet often called for him to discuss a newly discovered spell or potion, or to ask Dumbledore’s opinion on a problem concerning the school. Albus liked to think the headmaster was preparing him to take his position when the time comes. 

However, when he stepped into the office he realized very quickly that wasn't the case. There was a stern-looking man, maybe fifty years old, standing by the headmaster’s table. He had the posture and expression of someone who thinks themselves very important despite being very ordinary, if not boring. Albus used to mock these people and he only learned to feign interest in whatever they had to say. The headmaster was sitting in his usual chair and looked very uncomfortable.

“Good evening, mister Dumbledore,” the man said, and his voice only sealed Albus’s judgement of him. 

“Good evening,” Albus nodded with as much contempt as he could muster while still appearing polite, and graciously ignored the man’s omission to call him professor. 

“Please take a seat,” the man said and pointed to a chair by the headmaster’s table. 

“No, thank you, I'd rather stand, if it's not too much trouble,” Albus replied, refusing to be put on a lower level than the man before him. 

“As you wish. My name is Charles Werther, and I am an Auror of the ministry of magic,” the man introduced himself and extended his arm to Albus in a greeting. Albus shook it reluctantly, swallowing a comment about the ministry being very desperate to let someone like Werther be an Auror. 

“Pleased to meet you. Can I help you with anything?” 

“I am here to ask you a few questions about Gellert Grindelwald,” Werther said and watched Albus intently, probably to look for a reaction. Dumbledore would not give him anything. He had grown accustomed to the sound of his former lover’s name, and years and years of practice have made him quite impassive when discussing the man in question. That didn't mean he didn't flinch inside, didn't recall how different the way Gellert said it was from how the English perverted it or how he himself struggled with the proper pronunciation. 

“There is nothing I can tell you about him that I haven't said before,” he said, “I have offered all the insight I have to the ministry years ago.”

“It's funny how adamant you are to refuse me, when earlier you were all too eager to share your  _ insight _ . Is it perhaps because you were so eloquent that nobody remembered to ask you any questions?” Werther cocked his eyebrow inquisitively. 

Albus’s expression remained disinterested as he held Werther’s gaze. 

“I suppose the ministry was content with my cooperation then,” he said simply. 

“Maybe. But it is not now,” Werther remarked with a strange glimmer in his eye, as if this was what he’d been waiting for the whole time. “It has been pointed to us that you were quite… friendly with Grindelwald during the summer of 1899. Isn't it strange that you never mentioned that to us?”

“I did not assume it was relevant,” Albus replied and took a deep breath to gain some time, “I told the ministry all I know. I was of the opinion that the source of this information was not important.”

“Are you still in contact with him?” Werther asked coldly and made a few steps forward to intimidate Albus. He was shorter than Dumbledore by a few inches, and it made him look silly. 

“No,” Albus thought of all the unsent letters, or the little gifts bought with a certain person in mind only to be hidden in a drawer as he thought better of it. “As you said, I was only involved with Gellert Grindelwald during the summer when we met. I haven't seen him since, or received news that wouldn't be public. I have nothing else to offer you.”

“It seems odd, doesn't it? One moment you are inseparable and the other you don't see or talk to each other.”

“Odd it may be, but it is true,” Albus felt surer now. They could not make him admit to be in contact with Gellert - the last time he saw him face to face was more than thirty years ago, and they didn't part as friends. 

“I'm afraid I must ask you to accompany me to the ministry,” Werther said and his tone suggested he was the opposite of afraid. 

“Mr Werther, with all due respect, I don't like where this conversation is headed,” the headmaster, who had been a silent onlooker so far, remarked in a timid voice, “Albus is my best teacher, and I simply cannot be deprived of him.” 

“This is a matter of national security, professor. I must insist,” Werther reached absent-mindedly for his wand, as if preparing himself for the resistance to become physical as well as verbal.

“I will go with you,” Albus said into the tense silence, “I have done nothing wrong, and I am sure I will be found innocent and returned back here before tea.”

“Thank you,” Werther made a small gesture towards the door, as if he had been the host of this little party, seeing his guests on their way out. Albus decided to follow this little nudge, seeing there was nothing to gain through opposition. 

The castle was still and quiet at this time, the students already in beds and the teachers hidden away in their offices. The peace was only disturbed by an occasional movement of one of the stairwells or by a personage moving from a portrait to portrait. Albus enjoyed taking strolls at this time, immersed in his thoughts. 

The walk alongside Werther was dull and uneventful, and Albus didn't deem it necessary to engage in small talk. He went through the lesson he had been preparing earlier, and thought wistfully of his now cold cup of tea. He wondered whether some of the house elves would go there and clean up after him. 

As soon as they left Hogwarts grounds, Werther grabbed Albus’s elbow and they  _ apparated _ right in front of the entrance of the ministry of magic. Albus thought Werther was a rather poor excuse for an Auror yet again, and he hoped other ministry workers could use their wands better than this one. 

Albus knew the way to the ministry, and he told Werther so quite harshly as the man started to explain it. Dumbledore’s words caught him off guard, and he fumbled nervously like a green boy in front of the passage he had been using for years. 

Albus had to give it to Werther that he refrained from more showing Albus around. It was obvious Albus knew exactly where to go when told the office he was to visit. He maintained a cool persona who is above petty misunderstandings, but he was starting to get worried. Werther wasn't taking him to a regular officer in the countless floors above the ground - he was taken directly to the underground, cold Department of Mysteries. For a while, Albus imagined standing in front of the Wizengamot, his own seat glaring emptily at him. But Werther directed him to another door, a smaller and less adorned one. 

Albus entered and waited for Werther to follow, but the door closed behind him. He wasn't sure whether he was glad or annoyed. He looked around the room and his heart sank - this wasn't an office where they took you for a friendly chat. Albus had never been in one, but he'd heard of them, and  _ from  _ them. He tried to ignore the warning signs flooding him from his stomach and resolved to concentrate on an intellectual problem to occupy himself with. 

It felt like hours had passed before anything happened but Albus couldn't rationally tell how long he'd been pacing up and down the room when the door opened again. 

“Good evening, professor.”

Albus turned around to meet the newcomer. It was a tall, thin man with dark hair bound into a ponytail with a white bow. His eyes were icy blue, even lighter than Albus’s own, and obviously intelligent. Albus welcomed the sight of an equal but feared the implications of it. This was not a good-for-nothing convinced of his own superiority and importance but a clever man who knows what he wants. 

“Good evening,” Albus replied with a hint of a smile. 

“I assume you were told why you are here,” the man said without introduction. Albus understood why he was left in the dark about his opponent’s identity but it still infuriated him. 

“I've been told it had something to do with Gellert Grindelwald but I do not understand how it is relevant,” Albus said and considered playing dumb and innocent but quickly decided against it. This man would not believe him and it could only get him in trouble. 

“So you deny you met him?” 

“I do not,” Albus opposed, “I have spent a couple of weeks of my youth close to him, but that was decades ago. He was but a boy then.”

“A boy you say,” the man tasted the word in his mouth, “he began his campaign shortly after you parted with him and didn’t come across as a mere boy.”

“He was a bright boy full of ideals,” Albus admitted, “he was deluded but his intelligence drew me in. I didn't have many friends I could have an informed discussion with about the possibilities of magic. I was desperate to find a friend.” 

“That seems reasonable,” the man shrugged which Albus knew to be a sign he didn't think it reasonable at all, “one wonders though how much of his  _ ideals _ are his own. Boys at such young age are often easily persuaded by their peers and friends, in an attempt to please them.”

“May I remind you that Gellert and I parted rather harshly after a dispute?” Albus said but his hope was running thin. Obviously the ministry had decided to use his acquaintance with Grindelwald against him - and they didn't even know the best part, or so Albus thought, considering his companion had not brought it up. 

“And yet you still call him by his first name,” the man remarked with a triumphant smile, “not many people do that these days.”

“I have known him as Gellert, pardon me,” Dumbledore said but he was not apologetic at all. 

“I suppose that makes sense,” the tall Auror said with a pensive smile. Albus thought the little gesture suited him - a broad grin might twist his sharp features but slightly upturned corners of his lips flattered the depth in his eyes. “But enough idle chit chat. You must be wondering what eggshells I've been walking on.”

“I must admit I am,” Albus confirmed with a polite smile. 

“I will be frank with you from now on,” the stranger announced and made a few steps up and down the room, “the minister is calling for some results in the pursuit of Grindelwald. The people are restless and he wishes to give them something to show that he knows what he's doing - even though he does not. He wants to arrest someone and hold him accountable but he doesn't have anyone of course, Grindelwald is smarter than that. My superiors are of the opinion that a story of a man who’s had a close relationship with Grindelwald could serve as a perfect distraction for the people. The sensation the Daily Prophet reporters need.”

“And I am to be this sensation,” Albus nodded. He respected the man for his honesty, and wished they'd met under a different occasion. 

“I'm afraid so.”

“What will happen of me?” 

“They'll send you to Azkaban,” the Auror sighed as if he disagreed, “they'll pick at whatever happened between you and him all those years ago.” 

“I see,” Albus nodded, “is there a way I can avoid it?” 

“There isn't, unfortunately. Apparently you're the only person who's ever got close to Grindelwald.”

“He had a manner of insulting people he thought his inferior, which was almost everyone. I don't suppose he's changed his ways since I knew him,” Albus said, thinking the damage had already been done. There's no need for secrecy now.

“Did he insult you?”

“All the time,” Albus smiled against his will, thinking of sunny days ages ago, “but it was in a jest. Usually he insulted my education or my taste in food.”

“Were you friends at last?” Albus’s companion asked, “Did you get what you wanted?”

“He was the best friend I have ever had, if only for a few weeks,” Albus pondered with a wistful smile, “isn't it ironic?”

“I suppose it is. And cruel.”

“What are we waiting for now?” 

“I'm trying to stall your departure for Azkaban for as long as possible. I don't think you deserve being put there,” the Auror admitted.

“That is very noble of you, but futile I'm afraid.”

“So am I.”

…

Albus had often imagined Azkaban, especially as a child when his mother tried to explain to him where his father had gone and why he wasn't coming back. He'd heard stories from people who came back, although they were never quite the same. He imagined the prison to be a dreadful, miserable place that chilled you to the bone and made you want to tear your own eyes out. 

The reality proved to be a lot worse. It wasn't the physical discomfort, or even the idleness that was trying to get the better of him. It was the lingering, persistent feeling of creeping despair and horror that seemed to be soaked into the wet freezing walls dissolved in the saltwater. Albus knew it was brought on by the dementors floating around like solidified doom and world’s ugliest emotions, but knowing it was one thing, resisting the thoughts of self-hatred and anxiety was another.

The days were dull, unbroken and uniform. There was hardly ever any sunlight and if there was, it was soon smothered by nightfall. It was always dark and bleak in Azkaban and Albus found himself almost praying for some distraction in his boredom. His thoughts wandered more and more often to the days of his youth spent in Godric’s hollow in careless dreams. 

It had been an especially warm and sunny summer, as if made for him and Gellert to spend hours outside, taking walks by the stream or lying in the grass of the meadow, always talking, weaving intricate plans of world domination. They talked all the time, and if they didn't, they were kissing. Albus had found with a hint of a surprise that he enjoyed kissing Gellert as much as talking to him; and he was young and curious while Gellert was gorgeous like Adonis. They were both mostly clueless about what they were doing, but it felt good and they figured it out at last. Their intimate moments, when neither of them wanted to talk because words were too crude for the delicate thing between them, were still Albus’s most cherished memories. 

Days seeped and blurred into weeks, one precisely like the previous, grey and ugly and dreary. Albus kept a record of the days he'd spent in his cell, a cell that unbeknownst to him his father had spent his last years in. He didn't think there was a reason for it but he did it anyway, hoping one day he would leave this awful place. He supposed he’d want to know how long he’d spent there then. 

In the dark and miserable morning of day 87 Albus woke up to a rumbling noise that didn't quite correspond with the usual roar of the sea below mingled with an occasional wail of a prisoner. He sat upright on his cot and blinked rapidly. 

There was a man standing in his cell. He was lithe and shorter than Albus, with a playful smirk on his lips. He should have a mane of curly golden hair but he didn't. 

“Gellert? Am I hallucinating?” Albus croaked, his vocal cords rusty after a long time of scarce use. 

“As flattering as that would be, no. I'm here to rescue you, so hurry up, I can't keep the spell up for long,” Gellert replied and spread his arms, “come here, I missed you.” 

Albus stood up, unsure whether he believed his senses about the truth of this, but he supposed it didn't make much difference. If it was a hallucination, the worst case scenario was that Gellert would disappear the second he reached his arms. Albus was willing to take his chances. 

“I thought this wasn't possible,” he said, entertaining the fantastic idea that this was real. 

“Is anything really impossible for us?” Gellert asked and raised an eyebrow, “the truth is simply that no one tried hard enough before.”

Albus reached Gellert’s arms and felt them close around himself. They were warm and familiar and they hadn't disappeared yet which was a small victory. 

“Ready?” Gellert mumbled right before the dreadful cell disappeared around them and Albus felt the familiar tug at his navel he associated with  _ apparating.  _ He held onto Gellert, or whoever was in his embrace, and tried not to think too hard lest it would all go away. 

Finally they landed somewhere. Albus opened his eyes and found Gellert already grinning at him. His brain was still trying to cope with whatever happened after he woke up when Gellert let go of him, but only a little while remaining in Albus’s personal space. 

“Where are we?”Albus asked the first coherent logical thing that crossed his mind. 

“A lovely little town called Ischgl,” Gellert said, “I'm rather fond of the Alps, I have to admit. I never found the appeal in the flat English countryside.”

“Germany?” Albus walked over to the window and peered outside.

“Austria, but it’s all the same to you I suppose.”

“Is there a particular reason why this town?” Albus had to admit the snow-capped mountains offered a breathtaking view. He counted in his mind and realized it had to be April already. 

“No, not really,” Gellert replied, “it was just a name in the atlas.”

“And how exactly do I fit in here?” Albus asked finally, when he came to the conclusion that he really wasn’t making this up. There was too much detail for it to be a hallucination but that didn't mean he shouldn't be cautious. 

“You were always supposed to be here, but I was an idiot and I drove you away and you ended up in that lousy school throwing away your skills. But now they made the same mistake and you're back.”

Albus turned away from the window to look at Grindelwald and search for an insincerity or ulterior motive. He was struck again, and this time consciously, with how little his former lover had changed. His hair was shorter and his gleeful eyes were lined by a fan of wrinkles but otherwise he was exactly the boy Albus had met in Godric’s Hollow. It was almost uncanny but Albus’s heart thumped happily. 

“Why do you think I'd join you?” Albus asked despite everything in him urging him not to question anything. “I've moved on from my youth ideals.”

“But you haven't moved on from your youth love,” Gellert  smirked, “have you even been with anyone after me?”

“I've learnt love blinds me. I couldn't afford being blind again,” Albus said, not really avoiding the question, “I haven't found anyone who would be worth it.”

“Ah Albus, always so dramatic,” Gellert chuckled, “but you flatter me, I have to admit.”

“Still, there is no reason for me to go back to my faulty ways. I've changed.”

“I don't think you have,” Gellert protested, “I think you like to tell yourself that, and that maybe you even believe it, but that deep inside you couldn't have changed that much.”

“People change. They learn from their mistakes,” Albus pointed out, already guessing what Gellert’s next argument would be and figuring his own response to it. That was how they spoke, always thinking of the next exchange rather than the present one.

“Weak people, the mindless masses, not you, Albus,” Gellert smirked and he took Albus’s face between his palms. “You're still mine.”

Albus opposed Gellert by kissing him. He'd run out of arguments and he’d been considering doing it ever since he saw Grindelwald in his cell. They'd have plenty of time to argue later, but he desperately needed this now, to hell with caution. 

“Now that is an argument,” Gellert grinned when they parted, “you should oppose me more often.”

“That doesn't mean I'm saying I'll join you,” Albus warned him, “just that I missed you and that you still look more beautiful than anyone I've ever seen.”

“That's a start,” Gellert nodded, “now tell me, what have you been up to all these years you spent without me?” 

Albus talked about his career as a teacher at Hogwarts and of his other academic successes, although Gellert seemed to know about all of them. He had no personal life to talk of, just an estranged brother neither of them wanted to discuss, and a handful of shallow friends who worked more as band-aids and cement to his otherwise empty time. 

“So, you've been bored,” Gellert summed it up, “and wasting your time on kids when the majority of them will end up using three spells during their entire lives.”

“I was a kid at school too, you know?”

“Yes, and it's a wonder so much of your talent was salvaged despite the constraints of the education system,” Gellert remarked theatrically. 

“So… will you tell me what I missed out while I wasted my talent teaching the next generations?” 

“I found the Elder wand,” Gellert said matter-of-factly, as if he was telling Albus about a trip to the hairdresser. It might have eluded someone else but Albus noticed his excitement, the giddiness that came with the statement. 

“I thought you did,” Albus replied carefully and then, giving in to his curiosity, “can I see it?” 

Gellert grinned again and reached into the pocket of his jacket. He had always favored muggle clothing to the traditional wizard robes which astonished Albus. He supposed it was because Gellert travelled a lot and often undercover so that it was more convenient to appear as inconspicuous as possible. Still, the sight was exotic to Albus, and he had to admit he liked the way Gellert’s trousers hugged his butt. 

“Careful now,” Gellert said and procured the wand, tantalizing Albus with it, “it’s said her power is irresistible. I wouldn’t want you to try to kill me.”

“Her?” Albus said with a hint of a smile, watching Gellert’s thin fingers wrap around the equally slender wand. It was longer than wands usually were, and radiated an ominous sense of energy. Albus supposed he was making that up, ecstatic in the presence of the most powerful wand ever made. He had forsaken many of the opinions and desires he had as the barely of age lad, but he had never stopped believing in the existence of the Deathly Hallows. 

“Yes,” Gellert nodded solemnly, and there was something in his expression that told Albus he wasn’t making a joke just this once, “she speaks to me. She’s just as alive as you or I, but much more vicious.”

“Does she want anything?” 

“Oh yes,” Gellert nodded, changing his grip on the wand and swishing it a little, changing the arrangement of the furniture around them in powerful swirls, “she wants blood. That’s why whoever holds her is more powerful than his opponent - she’s bloodthirsty and hungry for power. She thrives on conflict and violence, and she doesn’t let you rest.” 

“Does she want you to kill me?” Albus asked curiously. He couldn’t help the question, although he dreaded the answer. 

“No,” Grindelwald shook his golden head, “she knows she’ll get more if the two of us unite.”

“And what makes the two of you believe I’ll stay with you?” 

“Oh Albus, isn’t it obvious?” Gellert smiled and wrapped his arms around Albus’s neck, “You have nowhere else to go.”

“That’s not-”

“I just broke you out of prison. May I remind you who put you there?” 

Albus was still confused by that. He had thought it through and through for his entire stay in Azkaban and he still didn’t know why they locked him up. Or why then. They let him go for decades and suddenly he was too dangerous? 

“You were also the reason why they locked me up in the first place,” he said then, finding it hard to resist Gellert this close. 

“Ah yes, sorry about that,” Grindelwald shrugged, “but that only proves my point. We belong together.” 

“I don’t approve of your treatment of the muggles. I still think we should not hide from them, but they’re not inferior to us. Look at where science got them. We could learn from them,” Albus pointed out, knowing he had just thrown away the last of his protests. Of course he would stay with Gellert - and maybe he could guide him from his faulty ways. 

“Let’s argue about the details later,” Gellert said and captured Albus’s lips with his own. Albus finally gave in. 

Their bodies fit together perfectly, as if no time had passed since they last saw each other, and much was recalled fondly, much cast away as a silly dispute that didn’t mean anything in the bigger scale. They were in a tiny room in an insignificant village, the two most powerful wizards of their time, their world shrunken to the other’s arms for the time being. Albus felt like he had been seeing in black and white for the last years and only now got his colours back. They haven’t been together for a whole day and he knew already he won’t be able to leave Gellert again this time. 

…

For some time Gellert insisted Albus stays in hiding. It was rather obvious that he wasn't doing it out of fear for Albus’s safety - he was proud and self-assured enough to believe he could protect whatever he wanted, to say nothing about Albus being perfectly able to defend himself. Albus knew Gellert was aware of how much of his policy was out of line and that he was trying to keep it secret. But patience was a virtue Albus had acquired during years and years of teaching children. Gellert would have to yield eventually, and Albus was determined to take his opportunity. 

Gellert said the Aurors were still looking for Albus, but admitted they weren't exactly eager to catch him. If for the fear of him or because they remembered him from school was a mystery, but it didn't seem to matter. In addition, they had enough of other problems, caused by the crisis and political turbulence in the muggle world. Although the wizarding world was mostly independent on muggles, food shortages, strikes and riots affected everyone except the wealthiest pure-blood families in their secluded country seats. 

Albus spoke enough German to read the papers and be worried by what was happening in the neighbouring country. He met up with several of Gellert’s friends and wrote letters to a reliable few of his own, and they all spoke of hungry, frustrated and exhausted people holding desperately onto life that was hardly worth living, and of charismatic politicians who promised a solution and a way out that seemed too easy to anyone who wasn't starving. 

Albus lost enough friends in the trenches of the Great War. Men and boys from muggle families, who volunteered or were forced to fight with ineffective weapons that turned on their owners as often as on the opponents, not daring to carry their wands.  

Gellert tried to come back to him every night, and they’d stay up for hours. More often than not they ended up arguing about the benefits of wizards ruling over muggles. Albus couldn’t help but think that there certainly was some appeal in it, but he no longer believed wizards to truly be superior to muggles. The Great War advanced the scientific progress and the differences between the worlds turned abysmal. 

“I don’t think they’d let us rule over them,” Albus pointed out after yet another discussion, “there’s more of them, and they keep developing things that effectively substitute magic. Why should they listen to us?”

“Look at them,” Gellert said and stood up from the bed. He walked to the window and looked out. They were staying in Munich, having decided Austrian countryside was too isolated, “look at how vengeful they are, what they do to each other. Their numbers allow them to slaughter each other by millions.”

“And they’d slaughter us. If there is anything to be learnt from the war, it’s their stubborn refusal to cooperate if they think someone is taking their rights away.”

“Let’s make it seem like they chose us, then. They seem to be very happy to be able to choose who will have control over them,” Gellert turned back to face Albus, “let’s make a political party.”

“You cannot be serious,” Albus chuckled, knowing Gellert wasn’t joking, “and what will be your programme - ‘I’m better than you, let me rule over you’?” 

“I was thinking more ‘Look, I can make this bread bigger and I can make your opponent vanish.’ But I’ll take your idea into consideration.”

“You’re an outcast in your own world. How do you expect muggles to accept you?” 

“I have you,” Gellert said and walked back to Albus, kissing him for a while, “the old fools in the ministry were stupid enough to estrange you and throw you into my arms - literally. They never realised you were the only person between me and achieving whatever I wanted, that you’re the only one who could hope to stop me. And now you’re here.”

“I told you I won’t be a part of your campaign against the muggles, or muggle-borns. How many times do I have to repeat it?” 

“But that’s the best thing about it, don’t you understand?” Grindelwald laughed, “It would have required so much work, and there would always be resistance. Muggleborns and people from mixed families would never agree to see my point, and everyone with friends among them would have to choose. There would be a civil war. But this, this is brilliant, Albus. We’ll make their lives better and they’ll be grateful to us. It would appear like we’re concerned about their wellbeing to them, and like we’re ruling them as inferiors to the purebloods.”

Albus wasn’t sure how he felt about Gellert not letting go of his theory that he’s better than muggles, but there was a certain appeal in his idea. And as long as Albus was there to modulate it, he might be able to truly make some change. He liked to think he had a healthy amount of ambition for someone of his abilities, and that he should employ them for making a change in society. Gellert’s assurances of his brilliance and exceptionality did little to stifle his self-confidence. 

“I’m certain both worlds could benefit from this,” Albus said carefully, “but you can’t go to the muggles and tell them about the wizarding world. That would never work. We need people to back us up before we undertake something like this.”

“I like the way you’re thinking, Liebste,” Gellert grinned and smothered any further protests with affection. 

…

It turned out Gellert’s circle of friends, followers and minions was wider than Albus anticipated. He had already met some of them, but he soon realised those were the most liberal of the lot. Gellert introduced him to the others as his companion and there were some odd glances in their direction that made Albus very uncomfortable. 

He forgot about it soon enough when Grindelwald presented his idea to the gathering. The brilliance of it was its simplicity - Gellert was certain it was only a matter of good planning and getting the masses on their side and the muggles would come in thousands. And seeing the state of the German ordinary people, Albus was inclined to agree. 

The announcement was accepted with great applause and elation. Gellert had invited his followers, people with radical views, or those who didn’t wish to hide from muggles anymore. Most of them were German, Austrian or from a German-speaking minorities of other countries, and Albus knew there was still a long way to go if they wanted support from the stubborn French, conservative British or backwards Russians. 

…

It took years; Germany was openly preparing for war and Gellert thought this was the time to act. It seemed too rushed to Albus, which he didn't hesitate to point out. 

“They're ostracizing the wealthy and hard-working because they worship a different god, Albus. This is the opportunity.”

“You said you wanted to get elected like a regular political party, but there's no party left in Germany. They won't host an election, and you can't hope to win in another country. What do you want to do, proclaim yourself a chancellor and create your own country?” 

Albus almost wished Gellert would say yes. He had been sitting idly for months, revising strategies and meeting wealthy or influential people, but he still felt like he was left out of the fight Gellert had promised him. 

“Do you want to give up now?” Grindelwald spat, “after all the work you want to throw away everything we have?” 

“I don't want to give up. But I don't see any peaceful way we can do this. And you know we just can't take power with force if we want people to support us,” Albus didn't allow Gellert's harsh tone provoke him, “or did you forget why we decided to do it in the first place?”

“You and your peaceful muggle-loving theories,” Gellert sneered, “sometimes I wonder if you're still with me.”

“Is that what you'd want me to be? One of your minions who follows you blindly without opposing you? A mindless idiot who worships the ground you walk on?” Albus frowned. They argued often, but it usually didn't become personal. They understood early on that their relationship would work on mutual respect and similar world-views rather than blind adoration and romantic fantasies of the other. Albus knew he'd never take up as much space as Gellert’s ego, and Gellert had to let go of some his more radical ideas. And usually it worked. 

“I don't want you to be mindless, I want you to see my point,” Gellert snapped, “you're always so cautious, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of how you always want to think something over and over until you change the idea completely.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you think I'm being too cautious,” Albus said, his expression forcefully calm, “tell me you think the best way to go is force yourself to the terrified and desperate people who allowed Germany to get where it is now.”

Gellert’s face twitched and he sucked in his lower lip, biting it to stop himself from showing his anger. Albus wasn't afraid of him, never had been, but he appreciated Gellert’s effort. He knew Grindelwald was a sore loser, and he didn't take it well when someone proved him wrong, mostly because he wasn't used to it. 

“If we don't do anything now, there will be war,” Gellert pointed out, “and millions of your precious muggles will kill one another with their  _ fascinating  _ weapons.”

“I know that,” Albus nodded without looking at Gellert, “I wish I knew what to do.”

“You left me once already and look where it got you,” Gellert said, “trust me this time. Please.”

He took Albus’s hands between his own and turned them over a couple of times, watching them as if he didn’t know them like his own. He took a deep breath, and Albus was almost afraid of what he’d say.

“I didn’t want to bring this up unless it was completely necessary because I was afraid of losing you. But I don’t know what else to do,” Gellert started and he looked up at Albus before continuing, “you have to make a statement, ask people to join us. I know there are many who admire you and others who are frustrated with the way things are. I’m not… I’m not charismatic enough to convince people. But you are.”

Albus opened his mouth to reply but Gellert stopped him with a finger pressed to his mouth. 

“I know,” Grindelwald nodded with a slight smile, “but it’s all peaceful. I just want you to ask people if they want to support the quarrelling and useless ministry or someone they know.” 

“I thought I ran away from prison.”

“Where they put you because they were afraid of you and to keep up the pretence that they were doing something because they are incompetent. You wouldn’t even lie.”

“And you?” Albus asked slowly, “what am I to say about you? Will you be my secret lover while I rule the world?” 

If Gellert could swallow his pride, it would be enough of a proof that he meant his proposal. It was a test, and Albus knew Gellert was aware of it. The words were chosen carefully to poke him. 

“I will, if it has to be,” Gellert said at last, fire in his eyes. “As long as I can be around to witness it and help you.” 

“I’m almost sad we’re not having a political party,” Albus remarked, “it sounded very sophisticated.” 

“We’ll have to make your speeches sophisticated then.”

... 

The war broke out two days after that. Albus and Gellert moved to England to get supporters for their cause. It was disheartening to see how few people were worried about the situation in Poland and Germany, although Albus had to admit it was understandable to think that most people just wanted to live their lives, changed forever by the last war. 

Many of their German followers and friends followed them to England, especially those afraid of persecution for their sexuality. Albus had never realised how many men like him and Gellert there were until Gellert introduced him to a wide circle of them. There were women too, incredibly smart and almost viciously independent, who hoped to get better conditions for themselves. Albus thought he’d want fighters like this in his army if he ever were to go to war, knowing several of them had more cunning about them than he and Gellert had together. 

Gellert had gathered a group of six of his closest friends to form a sort of personal guard to Albus when he made his presence known. There had been rumours of him coming back to England of course, and the hunt for both of them began again, but none of the Aurors could come quite as close to them. It would change once Albus would make a public appearance, and they’d have to be ready for it. 

It was November by the time they were ready to speak to the public, and the weather had turned cold and dreary. The fog was omnipresent, persistent and freezing even when rain fell, and the news from the continent only made it worse. 

“People won’t come in this weather,” Albus pointed out, looking out of a window, “we should make it somewhere inside or wait for spring.”

“I don’t want to wait even a day longer,” Gellert muttered, “we’re ready now. Everything is ready. I know the people will come, trust me.”

“Would you?” Albus asked and turned to Gellert who was looking at him over an Oscar Wilde book. Gellert was pretentious like that.

“I’d come see you in any weather and any place.”

“And if it wasn’t me? If you didn’t love me?” 

“But it is you, Albus, that’s the whole point,” Gellert sighed, “the only reason why I believe this could work is that you’re the face of it. Trust me.”

“You ask me to trust you quite often.”

“Who else should you trust if you don’t trust yourself?”

It turned out Gellert was right. Their supporters had been handing out leaflets informing of an upcoming lecture on current political affairs by Albus Dumbledore for a whole day before the affair, visiting purely wizard places as well as muggle ones. When Albus with Gellert  _ apparated _ close to the place, they found a crowd waiting. Most of them were curious onlookers, who saw a gathering of people and wondered what was up, but there were many of Albus’s former students and some of his friends. 

Most of the speech was a blur to Albus. He had come up with a synopsis of what he wanted to say but he had always found it difficult to stick to what he had prepared once he started talking. Speeches were done for people, intended to impress them and tell them something, and to do so, he had to react to the crowd. He’d been talking for almost an hour before a pair of Aurors stepped out of the mass of people and attempted to arrest him. Albus felt almost smug as he finished his speech and left surrounded by his bodyguards, knowing fully well the Aurors won’t attack them openly in front of the muggles. They  _ apparated _ as soon as they were out of sight of the masses and Albus could no longer contain his glee when they appeared on the step of their house. 

“We’re going to make it, Gellert!” Albus exclaimed, “You were right.”

“I told you you were underestimating yourself,” Gellert smirked, “we can do anything.”

“For the greater good?” Albus asked. Gellert's expression changed from playful to something Albus could only call touched and happy. He embraced Albus and kissed him like they've never kissed before. It was shy and grateful and Albus wondered what took him so long to earn it. 

“Yes,” Gellert agreed, “for the greater good.”

…

The war went on in Europe, all around Britain that still pretended it wasn't a problem. The Prime Minister was replaced by a man who promised to grow the country more backbone and Gellert was thrilled to see this. If the muggles could get rid of a passive, useless leader, then so could the wizards. 

Albus’s public presentations had turned into rallies. Thousands of people came, and more and more of them decided they wanted to have a part in what they felt was Albus’s inevitable victory and so the numbers of followers rose faster than they could manage. 

It was a matter of weeks now, Albus could feel it. Gellert was excited like a little child, speaking of what they will do when Albus is the minister for magic, and how they'll change the world. His agitation was contagious, and Albus felt himself hoping it happens soon. He'd never wanted to be a minister of magic, thinking it was way too much publicity and too much idle, useless work to truly do any good. But Gellert nursed his natural ambition and vanity, grooming it until Albus thought anything but minister of magic was a disappointment. 

Albus liked to think they brought out the best in each other, but it could easily have been the worst. Or maybe he pulled Gellert up and sank lower to meet him halfway. Not that his pride and vanity wasn't in him before he met Gellert. But the best thing about being with him was that Albus didn't have to control himself or hide his less noble thoughts. They fitted together so well because they could truly be themselves around each other. 

In another life, Albus would be content with teaching - maybe becoming the Headmaster of Hogwarts - and thinking he was doing enough good by shaping young minds. In another life where the ministry wasn't foolish enough to drive him into Gellert's arms, they might have ended up on the opposite sides of a duel. 

In June, Hogwarts declared full support for Albus and nearly all Aurors went on a strike, refusing to work against Dumbledore. It went as far as for several Quidditch teams to wear armbands with ‘Dumbledore’ on them. The whole wizarding community waited eagerly for Albus’s final move, everyone seemingly forgetting the man behind it all. 

Albus had always considered Gellert self-centered and attention-seeking but recent development showed he must have been wrong. Gellert was content to be the man in the shadows, pulling the strings of people towards Albus and organizing events, speeches, dinners, playing an amiable companion to a powerful leader. It was almost funny how well Gellert fit the stereotypical role of a dutiful wife. Albus was glad it was just an act for the public. Gellert continued to challenge him for dominance, always studying and coming up with new spells and potions. He told Albus not to worry about it, that it's understandable that he didn't have time for his own research, but it was obvious he was lying. There was a competition going on between them, and the stakes were high - whoever proved a theory got to choose what they'd do for the whole day, including sex. Gellert took great pleasure in bossing Albus around just because he could. 

In July, Albus was merely waiting for the right moment to seize power. Overthrowing a government had to be done right to be successful, especially if one wished to install a stable rule. 

The wizarding world was not a secret anymore. Hundreds of muggles were openly Albus’s supporters and thousands of them attended his manifestations. Although some of them thought Albus a clever man trying to be interesting - because someone as lucid could not be a madman - others fell in love with the world Albus talked about. They could not wield a wand, but some of the simpler potions could easily be prepared in a muggle kitchen if one had all the ingredients. Albus was thrilled to see many relationships that wouldn't have happened without his campaign. If love was the only good thing to come out of this, then so be it. 

The movement couldn't be stopped anymore; there were muggle women pregnant with wizards’ babies, and almost as many witches hurrying to marry a muggle. It got a life of its own with several branches sprouting here and there - muggles preaching companionship with the wizards, wizards demanding learning about muggle technical advance. There was opposition too, there always is, but it was minor and considered mad and harmless. Religious fanatics, right-wing extremists, some of the pureblood families that wanted to have nothing in common with muggles. 

Then the impulse came. On July 10th the Germans’ attacks on the coasts turned to be too much and the British spoke of retaliation and finally joining the fight. Albus stepped out with a daring proclamation talking of the futility of war, of the devastating effects it has on all countries involved and of how wizards should help muggles deal with the fanatics in their midst. It was utopia mostly, Albus knew enough of human nature to know that one man could sway people to do something they had been too scared to do on their own but never convince them to do something they were against. On the other hand, the majority of Germans were frustrated, hungry and desperate. Telling them their nation will once again be great and the most important in Europe gave them a sense of purpose and dignity they lacked after the humiliating outcome of the last war and the years spent in debilitating poverty.  

The minister of magic is forced to resign the day after, and Albus graciously accepts to be his temporary replacement. It needs to be temporary of course, but everyone knows it's a formality.

In the following week, Albus holds other speeches and rallies and people cheer him. He doesn't only meet the muggle prime minister as is customary, but also the king and he visits the Parliament. He's accepted even by people who were originally against him, his charm winning over some, his resolution over others. 

The world doesn't change the day he's elected, or the next day. But he's never expected it to be easy. And he and Gellert have enough time to get what they want - and they will, if they persist. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
